


Numb Like That Winter

by BlackMaya



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMaya/pseuds/BlackMaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Squalo is dead, and Xanxus is coping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Numb Like That Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mishaa](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mishaa).



> Note: Please don’t mind my errors. I will fix them once I have time. I wrote this in a rush, because it wouldn’t leave my mind, and I needed to study for my exam. : (
> 
> Post current arc (Arcobaleno Arc)

The sound of a gentle breeze outside your castle woke you up. You reach your hands up, up in the air as if you were to grab something—someone’s hand so that you could sit up and shout at the person for being there while you were asleep, but…

 

No one held you up. It was you who had to do it yourself.

 

You stood up from the bed and scratched your hair with your right hand.

 

Someone knocked on your door.

 

You ignored it and walked over to your closet.

 

Someone knocked again.

 

You ignored it again and continued to grab your clothes.

 

That someone knocked again.

 

Smash!

 

The person cursed as the door turned to ashes.

 

“B-breakfast is ready, Boss.” Mammon stammered as he floated away to avoid your gun. You glared at the wooden boards and ashes that covered your carpet. Someone should have started nagging at you.

 

But, where is he?

 

“Tch.” You looked back to your closet, which was just filled with your black capes—jackets, pants, and polo shirts. All those used to be ready in your bathroom when you wake up. Heck, even your underwear was there.

 

_Where is that shitty shark?_ You thought as you looked around—then something caught your attention.

 

Your queen-sized bed…

 

Only a side, the side you occupied, was messy.

 

Why? Why?

 

WHY?

 

_Didn’t that shitty shark sleep with you? Didn’t you make love to him just a few nights ago? Didn’t—_

 

Then you remembered…

 

_Didn’t he die a few days ago? Didn’t you try to kill Jagger? Didn’t you fail and lose to Jagger?_

 

You felt your scars burning, returning. The numbness you felt when you were being iced by the Ninth was returning. And it felt just like that winter, when he left to go to the Piece of Trash’s house after you two fought.

 

You felt alone, but at that time he returned, and you were saved from the loneliness, despair—if ever it was—you felt. And this time?

 

You won’t be saved. He won’t return to your side.

 

_Because he’s dead. And you weren’t able to avenge him._

 

“Boss.” Mammon called out again.

 

“Coming.” You simply said, and from the corner of your eye, you saw his jaw drop down.

 

If he were still alive, would you still simply say ‘Coming’?

 

No, you would have shouted and screamed random shit just so he would follow your orders.

 

Your heart was numb like that winter. That specific winter where he had returned.

 

_And you’re still wishing he would return this time._

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicate to: Mishaa, because she just keeps on writing and her works are inspirational. Not only that, but her eagerness and enthusiasm in writing—and reading, may I add—really inspires me to write (and read). 
> 
> Love you, Cara! You’re an awesome person. ;)


End file.
